Highlight Between the Lines
by Starr E. Knites
Summary: Chiara Vargas. She left her troubled past behind to ensure the safety of her citizens. Though her younger brother still engages in the business, she tries to control her anger and reign in the terror that was 'Trigger'. But when Alfred Jones shows up on vacation at her brother's house, will that anger be able to stay under tabs? Or is the forgotten mafia leader going to return?
1. Chapter 1

**Highlight Between the Lines**

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"Eh? What're you doing here America?!"

Alfred looked up from the coffee he was drinking and waved, "Yo! It's my favorite tiny Italian!"

"Im not short you bastardo!"

Hands on her hips, Chiara frowned at the American man sitting in her favorite Sicilian restaurant. He was an unpleasant surprise to find during this semi-favorable visit to her little country brother.

He stood, obviously she was shorter than he was, but he was always in the spirit to be humorous. "You're totally short. But it's too cute. I just can't stand it sometimes!"

A strong blush spread across her face.

"Neh?! St-stop sayin' crazy stuff! You-you bastardo!"

People were starting to look at the strange pair, so reluctantly she grabbed Alfred's arm and led him unto the restaurant's patio.

Alfred refrained from smirking when he saw the blush, "What? Can't I go to other countries without offending someone?"

"No, not here! If mi fratellino sees you here, it'd be a war!" She whispered. "Do you want that?"

Alfred shrugged, "I'll leave, but only because you asked me to."

His brilliant blue eyes flicked between her eyes then to her hand, "I've been meaning to see you anyway."

With a completely red face, Chiara looked at the ground.

"I don't want you to get hurt. That's all..."

Shyly gazing through her thick eyelashes, she softly grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "Don't come here...not here."

"Fine, I won't come here anymore. But I'm on 'vaycay' and can't be back for another week. Where am I going to go til then, yo?"

He looked down at her, half expecting the Italian to throw herself at him. But when no such behavior came about, he began to get confused.

With a deep breath, Chiara said, "You can stay at Alice's."

"Ali-li~" he mused for a moment before getting serious, "Wait. Why can't I stay at your place? Isn't it closer?"

A slight jolt was seen before the tomato faced girl began to yell at him about being indecent.

"Im CATHOLIC! You don't ask to stay at mi-!" She stopped mid-sentence when a familiar tingle went through her scalp.

With a curious finger probing the outrageous curl on her head, he seemed oblivious to her change in attitude.

"Okay, so? Being Catholic doesn't mean a thing to me. I don't get why you're being so spazticastic."

Vigorously shaking her hair, she took a second to contemplate her decision. "Listen you," she said pointing a dainty finger at his nose, "if I let you in mi casa, you've gotta promise me something."

"What would that be?" the American asked before wrapping a slightly calloused hand around her obscene curl and tugging at it, "Damn you got one hell of a fly away."

He kept tugging at the poor strand of hair with a smile, "Continue?"

With a violent tremble and heated body, Chiara managed to get out the word "truce" before getting a glazed look in her eyes.

Alfred did notice the change in her eyes. "You alright, Chiara? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"N-no...just'a-a promise a tr-truce...," she stuttered out. "Tr-truce, and yo-ou! c-c-can a stayyy..."

The American stopped tugging at her curl and held his hand out, "All you want is a truce? Fine. Seal it with a shake, right?" Alfred asked getting down at her eye level and winking, "I thought for sure that you wanted blood from my first unborn child. Not that I have kids."

Shaking out her curls again and gasping with relief, Chiara eyed his hand. "*ahem* Bloody bambinos are not alla moda. And, I pray for you havin no children," she said as she grasped his outstretched hand.

"Ever."

The American chuckled, "That's a little tough, don't you think? I'll have you know that I've always wanted at least one child. A girl I could spoil from birth on~"

The cold exterior fell back into place as she walked away from him and down the stairs. "Children are bothersome. And baby with a father like you would grow up weird..."

She shuddered remembering Spain introducing her to a little America who was almost identical to the stupid England.

"Sigh~"

_The bebe would eat only fast food...or blue frosted cakes... Oh mother Mary, save us all if he has a child_, she thought.

He followed her, slightly taken aback by her words, "I'd think I'd raise a pretty rockin' kid. They'd know every language like I do, and if they were a girl, I'd spoil her rotten. A boy, I'd just give him a football and say that he's on his own. Almost like what Britain did to me, only I'll do it better."

The thought of having children of his own got Alfred pumped. He actually thought highly of everyone's father except the man who raised him. And when he wasn't shouting his opinion about how the world was to be run, he was thinking about being a dad.

Chiara kept walking, but mumbled "that's nice".

The woman, though young looking, had lived to see too many countries be born and die from the spawns they produced. She always had a soft spot for little babbling babies, but knew too well of what they could do in their future.

"Just follow me idiota," she said softly. There was no changing his mind. Stupid Americano.

The American went on about how great of a father he would be, following her lead, "I like the name Rebel. Or Bullet. Or Ace. Those names are too legit to quit. I like Vinchenzo, too. It's super sexy sounding."

_Vinchenzo..._

The name echoed in her mind. That name sounded too similar to that boy. Little Sicily... A boy with the name Vincent.

_But at least he's not here yet-_

"Sorella, who's that?"

Alfred turned to the voice and smiled, "Yo, little dude! Vincent, right?"

Chiara looked to Alfred with a mortified expression. "What're you doing," she mouthed, "that's-!"

"Sorella! Get'a way from that Americano bastard!"

"Eh, Vincent? Calm down bro-."

Alfred looked between them, "What's the major malfunction? I've been here for two weeks already. I thought we were cool."

"Cool?! Who'd be cool with you?! Did you forget that your citizens be all racist to us?!" Vincent yelled as he got in front of Chiara. "Or did New York slip your fesso mind?"

He raised his hands in defeat, "Hey man, those were boss' orders. I totally would've let you in if it were up to me. Now let me leave."

"Ha! Leave?! And go where?" He motioned sarcasticly. "You're in mi casa. No one will help you bastardo."

"Thats, uh- not true..." Chiara said softly.

"Huh? What stuff you sayin' Sorella?"

"She's taking me to Alice's for the rest of my visit," Alfred said quickly thinking up a lie. "Kinda got lost though..." He hung his head in a pseudo type of shame.

Vincent looked at Alfred suspiciously before breaking into a cocky grin.

"Veni veni! You stupid Americano! Fine," he said turning to his older sister. "If he does anything Sorella, tell me. I'll come over and kick his culo!"

She smiled nervously. "Yea, yea Vincent. But I can take care of myself."

On the inside, Alfred was laughing so hard his face turned red. Being the quick witted country he was, he used this to his advantage. "Can we go now, Chiara? I'm embarrassed enough already..."

"Oh, uh- yeah... See you later Vincent," she said.

"Hm~ addio Sorella."

Chiara walked over to Alfred and took him casually by the arm. "I hate'a you so mach," she harshly whispered.

"That's what they all say, babe. Every single one before I sweep them off their feet~" he laughed in his obnoxiously, loud trademark way.

"Ch-chigi?!" she released herself from the arm she had previously taken ahold of.

"I'll never be 'swept off mi feet'! You think too highly of your self!"

Before she got too far away, he grabbed at her hair curl again, "If you think so. I like you. Didn't think I would. Maybe there's more to you than a rockin' bod."

"Ahh~ n-no, st-stahp~," she lightly moaned out. "Flattery will ge-get you no where..."

A little 'chigi' was heard again and Chiara was suddenly glad that Vincent was out of earshot and had left when he did. The poor girl didn't know what she would have done if her little bro saw what a filthy American could reduce her to.

He tugged harder, "What the hell is going on with your hair? This one is like _attached_ to you. Kinda like my 'Tucket. Which no one must ever touch."

She trembled and grabbed his wrist. "S-same. N-no touchin," Chiara said with a glazed look and heavy blush.

The air around them changed to a slight heat. All of the sudden she couldn't breathe. Shivering, gasping, and holding on to that atrocious hand that captured her forbidden curl, Chiara hoped he would understand her predicament.

He casually let go with a weird look on his face. Then took her hand, "Can I touch your hand, then? Hold it, maybe?" Alfred was quiet when he asked, as if it was a secret he was telling her.

She gasped when the thin hair was released. Confused by the change of mood, but glad for the change of his fingers' location, she accepted.

_The shy side of Alfred is weird...but, a little cute._

"Holding hands is intimate for Catholics, you know?"

Alfred paused, "Wow. You guys must have some strict rules. I'd go crazy."

Instead of answering, she just gripped his hand harder.

_*pft* to Satana's inferno with rules!_ she thought.

It was a bit uneasy to think of such things, but Chiara knew that in this day and age America was free. And if this obnoxious representative could do what he wanted, why couldn't she?

Recognizing the type of pout that rested on her face, he said, "You must be new to the rule breaking industry."

He lifted the hand he was holding and kissed it, "Welcome."

"Ah!" She exclaimed. If he kept it up, she'd have a permanent blush!

"I don't need you to introduce me to rebellious nature! You're already weird enough!"

Alfred threw his head back and laughed, "You love it!" He exclaimed.

Silence was all she gave him as she tried calming down her racing heart.

_This man is too much_! Due to her occupied thoughts, she completely forgot about their intertwined fingers.

The made the American smirk, "Cute. Didn't think you'd warm up to me so quickly. Oh wait, yes I did. 'MURICA!"

She just continued to pout and turned away from him. This was going to be a long walk to the ferry if he kept this up...

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**Hi everybody. This is an RP between my friend and I. For everybody here on FanFiction, I went ahead and took off Chiara's heavy accent. She'll have it once in a while, but for the most part, everything will be written correctly. The original work is posted on Wattpad. So those who would like to see it, you can find the link at the bottom of the page. Hope you guys like it! The plot will become thicker!**

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**Link- ** story/3755343-highlight-between-the-lines

©AmaraDeFelice - BallisticAmericaLove 2012


	2. Chapter 2

**Highlight Between the Lines**

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Surprisingly enough, Alfred stayed quiet the rest of the way with just a giant smirk on his face. Although, there was unspoken cockiness in his gestures

So the two continued onward, reaching the little ferry that would take them from Sicily to South Italy. Chiara knew it'd only take about an hour or two, but she still felt uncomfortable for some reason.

Sparing a glance at the young man next to her, she wondered if this was all a good idea. He WAS against her little brother, no matter how much he tried to deny it. The mafia side of him couldn't be subdued so easily like her's did. Underground gangs were strong in Italy, but thank to Alice, she'd been able to keep that rebellious side down.

Unlike little Vincent...

Hearing a vibration, she turned to Alfred and saw a little light go off in his pocket.

He hastily excused himself to answer a call, going clear to the other side of the ferry to speak to the mysterious caller. He returned a minute later to Chiara and looked rather nervous.

"Hey, how long exactly will it take for us to get there?"

She blinked and then turned from him to the land that was getting further away.

"It all depends on the water. It could be an hour, or it could be more. Just depends..."she said.

He snorted, "Man, this inconsistency could kill a dude!"

He started pacing, placing calls to several people on the other side of the ferry, but managed to enjoy most of the peaceful ride.

After a hour, he took her hand and watched the water below when all of his calls were done.

"Sorry. Some... business to attend to," he finished flatly.

"Business? I thought you were on vacation," she smirked.

"I am. It's just that people are stupid and I have to fix their mistakes." Another call came in, but he rejected it and turned off the device. Storing it back in his pocket, his gaze returned to the sparkling sea.

Chiara stayed silent and watched him curiously.

Alfred's nation always sounded like an obese and idiotic paradise. How could there be any problems? She was always worrying about inflation and economic disorder. What could he possible have to fix?

"Don't get me wrong, I love my country," he said, "I'm just sick of dealing with idiots. Everyone likes to blame my boss. But, really, most days, it's me."

Alfred liked everyone to believe that he was unbeatable. Unstoppable. But in that one moment he looked like he was crumbling from within. So fragile and exposed.

And only to Chiara.

He shook his head and laughed, "But I'll recover in no time! I'll be back to pickin' up babes and kicking ass like I always do!"

In the middle of his speech, she had felt the sudden urge to hug him. But the last comment incurred the need to smack him upside the head.

_This little bastardo gots some nerve..._

She decided to say nothing. The way he made her heart flutter then make her most violent being on earth was enough to drain her exponentially. The Mediterranean's alluring blue captured her attention and blocked out whatever words Alfred was spewing out.

He poked her cheek, "Yo, are you listening to me? It seems like you totally spaced out on me. What gives? I mean you totally were cool with me five minutes ago..."

As Alfred spoke, all of his sentences seemed to run together in this jungle of words. Inside, he was really okay with all that was going on. But he had an image to keep up, and it included too much talking at times. Plus, he hated silence. It seemed awkward to him.

Chiara swatted his hand away and said, "I wasn't listening and you were manipulating me earlier."

She never faced him, but continued to stare at the deep blue water. Inwardly smiling, she knew that he wasn't going to be happy by being ignored and being subjected to silence. It made her a bit happy to know that she wasn't completely under his spell.

He tugged on her hair, "Wait. I don't understand. How did I manipulate you?" Alfred shook his head, "Are you still with Spain?"

"Ah! Th-that! This, what you're doing h-here! That's manipulating me!" She squirmed at the touch of his grip on her erogenous zone.

"And I'm not with that idiota!" She said unconvincingly.

Alfred shook his head, "I don't believe you. It's annoying how much you're into him."

He let go of the strand, "I'm much closer to your age and he's probably touching you all inappropriately. What a pedo. What do you see in him? He's old and broke. Plus I want you all to myself because I can't be a super man without a Louis Lane."

"Huh?!" She stared at him, mouth agape and very confused.

_Did he just say that he likes me?!_

She felt extremely flattered. Then remembered what he said about Spain. Now the man could be idiotic and very clingy, but he was the one who taught and showed her the world. While Alice was off prancing around with their grandpa, doing who knows what for the Renaissance, she was on her own. Spain had come in and "saved" her, and for all that he did, she was eternally grateful. No matter what Alfred was to her, he couldn't just diss her first love like that!

"Listen up you bastardo. Spagna is'a mi salvatore! You ah can't be'a saying ohl dat mean'a stoof about mi amico! I'a mean, I ah like you... But I love'a Spain. He'a never done wrong to me," she said in her heavy accent.

"Ana has never touched ah me either. Evena though I'm almost'a as old asa him."

Alfred looked at her mad, but more at himself for not approaching the situation a little more gently.

He turned away from her. "Fuck that, Chiara. You two weren't meant to be. And soon you'll figure that out. And I'll welcome you back with arms wide open. I'll be ready to show you how a real man treats a woman. Until then... I'll be over there," he said pointing at the other side of the boat.

He took the rejection a little tougher than usual. If it was his high ego, or the fact that he was truly into her, one couldn't be too sure. But Alfred ended up moving to the other side of the ferry, not saying anything to her, talking to anyone, and avoiding eye contact with everything. There was a look of hopelessness in his sky blue eyes as he peered into the water.

Sure he was going broke, but he was still richer than that Spaniard. Stupid jerk face. Stealing away his last hope for happiness.

Chiara looked at the man standing at the opposite side of the boat across from her. She never really understood what was going on with him. Pouting, she turned back to the sea and shook out her curls.

_It's time to think about this long and hard... He came to Sicily a little while ago. But he still has a week left for his vacation._

She scratched her head.

_He's been acting all weird-like with my bro, and insists that there's no mob intentions. We'a called a truce and he's staying with me for the rest of his vacation._

The salty wind blew a few strands of hair into her face, so she gingerly places them behind her ear before attempting to further dissect the current situation.

_Alfred has been saying that he likes me since he got here. Through body language and just now... But he seems really mad when Spain is brought up. It's like he's being challenged or something. But, why now?_

She looked over her shoulder to the blond. He was still looking out to sea and seemed pretty angry. But, about what exactly? Well, she was about to find out.

Coming up behind him silently, she was about to ask what was wrong until Alfred shook his head.

He sighed and slumped his shoulders before starting to talk down toward the water to prevent facing her.

"Chiara..." He ran his fingers through his hair, "Every girl I ever met has fallen for me. Every single one except you. Natalia, Sakura, and even your sister. You chose your half brother over me. What the fuck gives? I legitly am into you and yet..." He trailed off.

Looking down at his hands, "Maybe it isn't just an ego thing. Maybe I really am into you. Like convert to Catholicism and marry you and have kids with you. But instead you like a pedo with money problems who's into turtles. Fuck... The idea of him taking you away makes me wanna nuke him so bad..."

The American put his head in his hands, unsure of what to do.

"Listen Alfred. I like Antonio. A lot. But...," she took a breath before continuing, "but that doesn't mean that I can't give you a chance."

She looked away, very embarrassed. "And I was serious. He never touched me. It might have been because I always looked up to him. It might have just been a crush. So, I'm willing to give you a chance."

Spinning around quickly, he hugged her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist and resisted the urge to kiss her.

"Y'know, I think this could work."

_You're pretty confident for guy who was moping just a second ago..._

Chiara returned the gesture a little awkwardly and whispered, "Idiota. Don't get too confident... You have to win me over."

"Easier done than said." Alfred smirked, "I'm so charming."

She smiled into his chest and stayed silent. She was going to give him a chance. She couldn't guarantee the outcome would be in his favor, but at least she could say that they tried it out.

Instead of going on about how he would sweep her off her feet and blah blah blah, the gears in his mind were turning. At the moment, he was thinking of original ways to get her to stay with him and make her forget all about that ridiculous Spaniard.

Alfred strongly believed in the power of three, so he had to think up three things he thinks would make Chiara forget all about Antonio. He had two for sure. But the third one was going to be tough.

The American thought back to the days he was all about the mob, back in the twenties when he remembered first meeting the woman named Chiara Vargas. She was a tough, business-oriented lady who made no room for BS.

_Why did she stop something she was so good at?_ he wondered to himself.

Alfred mentally shook his head out of the moment. That was something to question later. But right now, he had a lady to woo over.

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******Liked the chapter? Then (I'm not begging) it'd be nice to see a couple reviews. I think they'd make my friend very happy. Next chapter is up. The link for this chapter with Chiara's accent is on Wattpad. Check it out, if you want.**

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**Link- ** 10924359-highlight-between-the-lines-chapter-two

©AmaraDeFelice - BallisticAmericaLove 2012


	3. Chapter 3

**Highlight Between the Lines**

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Chiara couldn't take it anymore. Americans were too confusing!

Yesterday Alfred declared that he was going to win her over. Well, it was her suggestion- but he eagerly accepted it. Now when she looked at him, she didn't know what to make of everything.

Alfred was in the kitchen, drinking his cup of joe, still in deep thought about the third thing to do for Chiara. The power of three is ineffective in twos. He leaned against on the counter sinking deeper into his thoughts; his brilliant blue eyes seemed just a tiny bit darker now.

"-fred? Alfred?!"

He snapped out of it, "huh?"

"I asked you if you'd like to go out? Calabria has nice cafe..." she told him very shyly.

If he wasn't going to take the first step, then she would.

He blinked, the words sinking in a few seconds later, "Oh. Food? Dude I haven't eaten a decent meal since home." Alfred laughed, "Sounds fun, babe~"

A light pink dusted over her olive skin and she shook her head. There was nothing to do about it.

"Then'a get off your'a lazy culo and let's ah go!" Grabbing her clutch off the counter in front of him, she made her way to the door.

Alfred followed her, laughing, mimicking her heavy accent rather well, "Let's ah go!"

"Idiota..." she mumbled light-heartedly.

She didn't lock the door, because she never needed to do so before. Instead, Chiara walked down the cobbled walkway down the sidewalk where her silver Pagani Huayra was parked.

"Get in," she called over her shoulder to Alfred who was just getting onto the sidewalk.

_Merda, Americans sure are slow._

He shuffled to the passenger side of the car and shut the door, securing his seat belt. Alfred's eyes were back to being the dull thoughtful ones they were back in the kitchen. It was strange to see him so serious, when most countries knew him as a dynamic, right to the point, obnoxious, gun loving, loud mouth who couldn't mind his business.

But there he was, silent as could be, he also glanced at Chiara for moments at a time, taking in her features. But other than that, he jus sat and stared at the dashboard in front of him.

Chiara glanced at him for a second in her driving. The silent atmosphere was beginning to wear on her nerves. She had half expected him to at least make a racist or sexist joke about her driving. But he was being quiet!

Gripping the wheel, she narrowed her eyes in aggravation.

_Time to bring out the big guns..._

"Ay~ You know this cafe we're going to?"

She waited for recognition, but it never came. Eye twitching she continued more forcefully.

"The cafe in Calabria here had a crazy infestation of bebe sea turtles. Ya, they were all over me and that idiota Spain! He wanted to keep one, but I said no. Stupid bastardo," she chuckled at the memory, "you can't name a little turtle."

Smiling, she hoped he would agree with her and laugh. Anything to get him taking.

The most that Chiara got out of that story was a half blank smile, "That's great babe, you keep at it until you perfect it."

Alfred went back to blankly staring at the dash in silence, making no attempt to make further conversation.

_What? What?! He wasn't even listening!_

Her polished nails gleamed in the sunlight as she put the poor wheel in a death grip. She didn't even notice her foot pushing the gas pedal as far it would go. Her blind anger was all she was focused on. The blind anger directed at the silent stud next to her.

_Oh, that bastardo is gonna pay... _she thought while she glared out the corner of her eye.

The American felt the car going faster, but it took a minute or two to sink in, and another 45 seconds to say, "Uh, Chiara? Don't you think we passed the place by now? I mean, I'm pretty sure we're going 250 miles. Maybe more. Mind slowing down before we, like, die?"

"We're not there yet," she grit out. "But nice of you to finally notice something..."

The last part was barely above a whisper. The poor girl felt very confused and angry. But she let up on the gas to cruise back at 112 km/hr in order not to get in trouble with her boss later.

It would only be a little while until they reached Calabria. So she tried to calm down before they got to the city line.

"Why are you acing like I punched you in the boob?" He asked, extremely confused.

Chiara sighed in frustration. Alfred would never understand the true workings of a woman. She glanced at him and tried to calm herself. Alice's advice on taking control of her anger was actually coming in handy for once.

"Alfred, you wanted to try this _relationship_ out- right?" she asked.

He nodded eagerly, "I do~ and it's totally going to work out because I really really like you!" Alfred put him hand over his mouth, disbelieving that he had heard himself say that.

She looked at him completely taken aback. It wasn't everyday that something so sweet would escape _HIS_ lips. She probably would've thought he was lying or just saying it like it was nothing like Spain would. But she just felt light inside.

Shaking her head and turning back to the road with a slight blush, she continued with what she wanted to say.

"If this relationship is gonna work out, then we need to communicate," she said with difficulty. "You can't be silent and moody when you're usually all happy and stuff."

Running a manicured hand through her thick locks, she sighed. "Try and talk with me? It's weird when you're quiet... Makes me feel uncomfortable."

He nodded and racked his brain to thing of something to talk about.

"Uh... Are you still into the mafia?"

The car came to a slow halt by the curb of a sidewalk. To their right was the restaurant she and Antonio had gone to back in 2008. It was weird, seeing the quaint restaurant unchanged. But she directed her attention to her passenger. The topic he wanted to start was a hard one.

_This is not what I meant by talking_.

"Alfred?" She resolved quietly, "why don't we talk about that over lunch..."

Alfred nodded, looking over at the cafe with interest, "Is that a turtle on the sign?"

She looked at the sign hanging above the door. There was one thing did change from her last trip in 2008. There was now a baby sea turtle next to the beautiful script letters that read the name.

"...bebe turtles." She shivered at the memory. "Yea," she responded as she opened the door with her left hand and grabbed her clutch with her right.

Alfred slipped out of the door and held her door for her before she could fully get it open for herself.

He smiled and pretended he had on some sort of hat and tilted it toward her in respect, "ma'am."

She wavered for a moment but put out a toned olive leg into the warm sunlight but chilly air. Out of the car, she let Alfred close the door and take her by the arm. They walked in silence into the cafe where upon arrival, were immediately seated.

"Oh Miss Italy! It has been quite some time since you've graced us with your presence," a young woman with almost no accent said.

"Well, I'm here now."

"So I see," the black haired beauty said. "Where is the other other one? The one from last time?"

Chiara looked confused for a split second, but then immediately knew who she was talking about.

_Antonio... maybe this was a bad idea._

Luckily though, Alfred was in thought again, the difference was that he tuned out everything but Chiara, so he smiled a little more every time she spoke.

Cracking a nervous grin, she simply motioned Alfred and herself together and replied, "We're on a date."

The waitress nodded to her home country and took out a pad for their orders. After telling her what they wanted, the snooty employee went to the kitchen in a subdued huff. Chiara took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

He took her hand, "I believe you had a story to tell me."

Alfred had finally pulled his head out of the clouds and smiled at her, giving her his undivided attention, something that never usually happened, but seeing as he was not in a meeting, he acted differently. Level headed and down to earth, even.

The queasiness returned to her stomach.

"Alright."

A deep breath came and went before she folded her nervous hands on the table in front her.

"You remember when I was in New York for the first time? Well, I got in a bunch of trouble. Eh... I mean, got _YOU_ in a bunch of trouble. I never meant to do the things I did back then. And I sort of influenced Vincent too. I worked alot with him, but he was better at the business than I was."

Chiara played with her fingers. Clenching and unclenching her hands.

_This is harder than I thought it would be... Sorry Sorellina._

"Alice, she...she helped me out. You know? After Capone? Well, I left, your place and came back home."

Looking down at her hands, she opened them and saw her reddened palms.

"But, I could never forget the feel," she whispered. "The feel of the gun...the money...," a little smile crept up, "the blood."

Suddenly frowning, she gripped her hands again.

"Ah- Alice put me through her hug therapy. Helped me control the anger. To forget about my anger and the stuff I did."

_Alice did her best too... s_he thought,_ as long as nothing too much comes up, I can handle this._

"So, the crime life is- suppressed...You could say. Well, Vincent doesn't like you because of all the things you neglected to us Italians back then."

The hate of the Americans she witnessed in New York and Jersey were still fresh in her mind. Turning to him, her face very angry, she bit out "Free country?! Free country my culo, you bastardo!"

He raised his hands in defense, "Slow your roll. So maybe I was just a teensy bit prejudice back then. But we're over that now, right? Anyone can come to my country now. Except the Haitians. Not allowed. But that's besides the point. You can't sit there and say that you've never denied certain people in to your country because of reasons other then simply not liking them. So calm your tits, trigger."

He let out the last bit of his breath out in a frustrated huff, and shook his head. The American then realized that the last sentence came out like it used to when he was Don Alfred. He only called her trigger back then.

"I mean... Chiara."

Chiara looked shocked. A hand slowly came up to her mouth and covered it. The little shivers that racked her body had her fly-away curl shaking. The black haired waitress came came back with the food.

"Anything else, Miss?"

Chiara didn't seem to hear her.

The shaking continued and the waitress glanced at the confused Alfred before asking her, "Miss Italy? Miss-?" A fist came down on the table with a slam.

Alfred's eyes narrowed slightly, "What's the major malfunction? I just told you the truth."

The smile that came next surprised both the waitress and America.

"Don Alafred~" came a seductive slur, "you know'a that's not dey whole ah truth~."

Wide eyed, the waitress quickly excused her herself and walked to another one of her tables while Chiara raised her head to face Alfred. The her hazelnut eyes seemed a bit greener now, but the real change was the smile.

The smile that had been locked away to keep everyone safe, was now freely being shown.

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**Alrighty! Chapter three... You like? Well, I wouldn't know now if there wasn't a review telling me so. I ain't a mind reader.**

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**Link- ** 10921233-highlight-between-the-lines-chapter-three

©AmaraDeFelice - BallisticAmericaLove 2013


	4. Chapter 4

**Highlight Between the Lines**

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He blinked once.

Then three more times before pulling out his old fedora and putting it on, thinking this was all a game. A game of nostalgia, most likely.

"The Don is listening," he spoke softly as his icy blue stare automatically looked over her body to be sure that she had no weapons on hand.

Shaking his head to release himself from the habit, he looked up into her eyes with his own cold, menacing, business-like ones. Alfred noticed something was a bit off, but playing to the old role, he gestured for her to keep talking.

Taking off his bomber jacket, he loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, before fixing the hat on his blond head of hair.

The grin she wore began to reveal white teeth.

"Oo~ that hat brings out memories," she said slowly. "Nice trick though...got anything else hidden under there?"

A red nail teased its way up from his knee and traveled at a snail's pace on his thigh.

"Another-" she leaned in a bit to his face "-Magic-" the nail retreated and her hand pressed down near his crotch "-Trick?" eyes lidded, she let her tongue do a quick sweep over her bottom lip.

Watching his eyes the whole time, the old Chiara noticed something missing from them and leaned away.

"Your heart isn't in this," she frowned. Her hand shot up and grabbed his tie roughly.

"Why?"

It was then that his reserve broke. He felt himself shift mentally, emotionally, and it shone through his eyes. They became knowledgeable and cold. Still free, but always wanting more.

He grabbed her wrist, "Trigger, we have discussed-" he pulled her hand away from his tie, his eyes finally becoming threatening, completing his old mobster look, "-playing rough in public."

His voice was as frightening as having a gun being held at point blank. Don Alfred smirked, letting go of her wrist and taking his fedora off, pulling out thousands of dollars.

"Ta-da~"

The almost evil looking smile was back with a force. Taking a few hundred in her right hand, she crisply tucked them in her shirt right over her heart.

"Don Alafred, I do believe you are working as a magician part-time," she teased wrapping the hand, he had removed, on his shoulder.

"Entertaining."

Her eyes seemed completely run over by green. It was a very startling sight to see, the green and blue clashing as they gazed into each other's souls. Chiara got as close as she could get without being on his lap.

"Should we start eating? Or get it to go?" she breathed out as her chin rested on his shoulder.

He studied her face for a moment, "If you keep looking at me like that, we'll be leaving in the next couple of minutes."

"To go it is then," she purred.

Removing herself from him, she waved down the waitress and told her to get boxes. Almost immediately, the scared waitress had everything packed into two neat boxes and placed them in a bag.

"Grazie Signora," Chiara thanked curtly as she got up from her spot next to the stoic faced American.

They left the restaurant with purpose in their steps toward Chiara's Huayra.

Alfred opened the passenger door for her. "Come on Trigger," the Don snapped with an odd combination of respect and impatience.

He then got in the car, turning it on and speeding off without a care in the world. He was much more of a reckless driver than she. The difference was he wasn't angry; just impatient to get his way.

Kicking back and putting her legs on the dash, Chiara sighed in frustration.

"What can a girl do to get a smoke?" She grumbled.

Head rolling to the side, she looked out the window and began to tap on the glass. The food sat on the floor in front of her seat. Her hunger was beginning to eat at her, but, she wasn't hungry for food. She quirked an eyebrow at Alfred's reflection in the glass.

_Yummy,_ she thought with a hum.

His mafia side wavered slightly and Alfred began to think that this was more than just a nostalgia game.

_Maybe there's more to it than that... _he concluded, pressing down on the gas pedal.

The American had different ways he acted around certain people. Like in the southern states, he owned several ranches and farms in Texas. Or up north in New York, he owned an art studio where he kept his pop art. Or in California, where he owned many beachfront properties and rented them out during the summer months.

Now that Chiara was _acting_ all mafia, he had to blend with her like he did with everyone else.

His mobster side kicked right back in, "Trigger, you're not going to be smoking in front of me anymore. You shouldn't be, anyway. I hate the smell and the butts are everywhere when you're done."

Don Alfred shook his head, "You're too sexy to be taking ugly risks like that."

The Don stopped focusing on the road, it was was easy seeing as it was a straight shot now, and took her face into one of his hands, and making her look at him.

Alfred's face was barely an inch from Chiara's, "I got somethin' better for you to do when we get home anyway."

Chiara smiled at his suggestion.

"Well, I hope we get home quickly," she responded softly, almost brushing her lips against his.

When he let her go and returned his attention back to the road, she kept her eyes on him.

_So...tempting..._

Her thoughts became cloudy all of the sudden and the instinct of passion began to ignite within her. "Alfred~"

He turned back to her with rebellion in his eyes, "What is it, Trigger? You're still not smoking."

He pulled his eyes back onto the road, taking his foot off the gas pedal slowly as they quickly approached the Italian's home.

Smirking, she waited till the car fully stopped at a light to jump him. Grabbing his shoulders, she eagerly pressed herself up to him and kissed his lips. He didn't seem surprised, but she wouldn't have been able to tell anyway.

Deepening the kiss and getting even closer, she tried to use her famous imperialism tactics against the willing American.

The blond grinned into the kiss and drove off road. Away from her house, far from wandering eyes, into a little grove of trees. With her still kissing him, he managed to park the vehicle and recline his seat in one move.

Breaking momentarily, Chiara moved fully into his lap to get full access to his body. When she had finally situated herself comfortably, Alfred crossed his arms behind his head. She saw this as an invitation to take control. So she did.

Grinding a bit, Chiara swooped low on his chest and began to lightly pepper his exposed collar bone with kisses.

"Don~ you don't want to touch me too?" she whined softly into the crook of his neck.

Her hands were beginning to unbutton his shirt, but she felt a bit abnormal doing so. With her slow ministrations taking place, she felt the urge to just feel. Even though the carnal hunger was permeating her system, she didn't want to make the effort to go _all the way._

Alfred moved his hands, pulled his gloves off, and set them off to the side. His left hand ran through her thick, beautiful locks, and pulled her down until they were nose to nose.

"You're just asking for trouble, Trigger..."

"Maybe I want it," she breathed. "Can you provide the services?"

The silence in the car would have been almost deafening if it were not for their breathing.

The American scoffed, "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. I don't think you'll be able to take it."

Nonetheless, he pulled her in the rest of the way and kissed the Southern Italian on her lips. A tingling sensation transfixed as his lips lingered, setting his face on fire, then parading down his body.

The woman tried to counter by responding, but the tantalizing feeling of Alfred's lips against her skin was almost too much. So Chiara let herself be taken by the moment. Kissing him back with force, she tried to dominate again when he opened her mouth. But when he pressed further and swept his hand against her scalp to her curl, she couldn't help but falter.

By this time, the car had fogged up and the couple could no longer be seen by the outside world. Alfred's free right hand started moving up the back of her thigh, ever so slowly.

She moaned from his aggressive approach. She couldn't think clearly with his warm hand on her leg and fingers gripping her curl. An unfamiliar heat began to pool between her legs as the kisses increased with speed and ferocity.

His hand moved towards her heat, pressing against it. The urge to press into her was almost overwhelmed him, the blatant want to slide into her take right then.

*tap tap*

"Sorella? Sorella are you in there?"

Chiara froze in shock at the voice from the opposite side of the fogged up glass.

"Holy Cannoli..." she whispered.

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**Yes, "holy cannoli" is Sicillian. This just goes to show how close she was to Vincent than Alice. A bit steamy, but nothing explicit. It's all good.**

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**Link-** 10925959-highlight-between-the-lines-chapter-four

©AmaraDeFelice - BallisticAmericaLove 2013


	5. Chapter 5

Don Alfred haphazardly placed Chiara back into the passenger's seat.

_I don't think Alice knows what fogged windows mean..._ he thought.

Despite his irritation, the American managed a smile as he rolled down the window, looking up at Alice.

"It's Alice! What's the news up in your country, baby doll?"

Pet names with the loud nation were common. But they had different meanings back then compared to now. He only called Alice "baby doll", like he would call Chiara "trigger". Code names, if you will. Alfred made everyone's nicknames kind of unique back in the 20's and 30's to keep their real names off the streets.

So saying those names now were made out to be an inside joke or close to that personification's name.

Alice looked confused for a moment, but then realized what he meant.

"Alfred? It's been a long time since you've used that name for me," she said. "What're you doing here? In, you know... mi Sorella's car?"

Chiara pouted in her spot as the heat of their heavy make out session escaped through the window. The woman rubbed her thighs together in aggravation.

_Idiota Sorellina..._

"We're on a date," he replied simply, hiding his frustration with a wink, "Where you headed? I can take you there~"

Alice leaned down and saw her older sister in the passenger seat wearing a familiar expression. But even though she hadn't seen her in a while, Alice knew that something was off.

"I'm, uh... I was on my way to Chiara's house. To you know... visit." she said a bit awkwardly.

She did a once over her sister again before directing her eyes to Alfred. To say she was shocked was an understatement.

_The hat..._ she thought, _Why is'a he wearing his old Fedora?!_

"We're on our way there now." The American shrugged as if it weren't a big deal, "Hop in?" He looked at Chiara for approval.

Chiara frowned deeply but said nothing. The needy ache was still persisting in her vital regions, and the lack of release was driving her mad.

"Um, I was on my Ducati when I saw you guys," she said a bit timidly while pointing to her Ducati Superbike 848 evo. "I'll just follow you back."

Alfred nodded, rolling up the window and immediately speeding off. Had he been in the presence of one of his old goons or alone he would've unleashed tremendous amounts of swear words. But seeing as he was in the presence of a lady, his lady, he didn't want to offend her. Even though she was just as big of a fireball when it came to tempers and even bigger at responding with curses.

But he kept it all inside. This American mobster had manners, but only in the presence of women. Any other time, he would let 'em have it. Or let her have it... Either way.

Chiara exhaled and closed her eyes.

_Leave it to Alice to ruin the moment._

With her eyes half open and not paying attention to the direction, she subconsciously put her faith in her American frienemy-lover. Said man was speeding again, but that didn't stop Alice from keeping close on their tail.

Without a helmet on, her light brown hair flew wildly around her heart-shaped face.

_Damn her..._ Chiara thought with envy as she stared at the younger Italian in the side mirror.

The American looked back at Alice from the rear view mirror and frowned. Then, with a mischievous look in his cold blue eyes, he whispered, "Honestly, what's a man gotta do to get some privacy around here?"

He didn't expect any response from the Southern Italian, the feeling of the mafia power waning slightly from her.

Chiara rubbed her right temple and looked at Alfred with almost cocoa irises. She looked tired, the glimpses of internal conflict flashing across her every so often.

"Alfred? Wait..."

She closed her eyes in frustration and grumbled something in Latin before angrily looking at the American driving her beloved car.

He pulled off his fedora and smiled, "Hey babe, what's good?"

His good old melting pot gene always came through for him when he needed it. It's what kept him hidden from other not so friendly counties that he liked to visit - Sicily, for example. So whenever Chiara, or any other country for that matter, ever let off a certain vibe, he would go along with it. And right now, unfortunately, she was giving off the "normal county" feels.

Her wondering eyes searched his before asking why he had a fedora. She didn't seem to remember anything that had happened at all. Then, looking in the rear view mirror, her hazel gaze appeared to lock with her younger sister's light brown.

"What's going on?! Why is Alice following us?" She turned to him, "And why're you driving my car?!"

Alfred looked at her for a moment to see if she was joking, "Let me guess, you don't remember what happened in the past two hours? That's quite a shame... Well, I know the roofies work for sure now!"

At this last part he was poking fun at her lack of memory, but was serious the rest of the way. It was a shame that she didn't remember that moment they shared just before Alice showed up, and even worse that she didn't even have the slightest clue of what had gone on. The American knew he would never forget it.

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_'Don~ you'a don't wont to'a touch me ah too?'_

* * *

He had that locked up in his mind.

_The mad, beautiful look in her eyes..._ Alfred thought dreamily.

"Che Cazzo?! Alfred! What's going on?! What are you talking about with these 'roofie' things?"

Chiara was beyond irritated. The last thing she recalled vividly was being in the restaurant spilling her guts out to her new "fidanzato". But now she was back in her car, in the passenger's seat, being driven to who knows where! Along with a headache, and the fading of a strange sensation in her vital regions, Chiara wasn't in the mood to joke around.

_I want answers..._ she internally grumbled.

After rubbing her sore eyes again, she continued her hard stare at the American driving the vehicle that she never let anyone get behind the wheel of.

"Damn bastardo... What the hell is going on?!"

"Calm down, babe. Just poking fun is all..." He waved her questions off like she had with his and parked the car in the drive way to power it down.

His door was open as soon as Alice pulled up. But before slipping out, he turned to her.

"And, Chiara?" Alfred murmured so softly that his words were almost completely missed by all but the wind breezing past the ajar car door.

"I hope you remember something from earlier. Because I don't think we've ever shared something that beautiful together before."

With that, he quickly exited the low vehicle leaving Chiara spewing colorful profanities in the midst of his suggestive statement. Ignoring the confused woman yelling at him, Alfred went into the unlocked house and made his way up to the guest bedroom that he was given yesterday.

Once in, he shut the door behind him and turned on his phone.

Messages.

Tons on them light up the tiny screen. Alfred shook his head and sighed.

"Let's get this shit over with."

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**Hey~ I'm back! And I have no idea why this wasn't up before hand. It's been up on Wattpad for months now. Huh... Well, bad news is that the RP between me and my friend for this tapered off a while back, so the story is incomplete after chapter 6. We were in chapter 7 when it died. I might continue it, or I might not. Just depends... Well, anyway. Six will be up late tomorrow hopefully. Let's wait and see.**

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**Link-** 10925959-highlight-between-the-lines-chapter-four

©AmaraDeFelice - BallisticAmericaLove 2013


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